She picked up the dead bird and paddled towards the dim figure who was evidently wrestling with something， she could not see what.
"Here is the curlew， sir，" she said.
"Oh， thank you，" answered the figure on the rock. "I am infinitely obliged to you. I was just going to swim for it， I can't bear losing my game. It seems so cruel to shoot birds for nothing.""I dare say that you will not make much use of it now that you have got it，" said the gentle voice in the canoe. "Curlew are not very good eating.""That is scarcely the point，" replied the Crusoe on the rock. "The point is to bring them home. /Après cela----/""The birdstuffer？" said the voice.
"No，" answered Crusoe， "the cook----"
A laugh came back from the canoe--and then a question.
"Pray， Mr. Bingham， can you tell me where I am？ I have quite lost my reckoning in the mist."He started. How did this mysterious young lady in a boat know his name？
"You are at the Red Rocks； there is the bell， that grey thing， Miss--Miss----"
"Beatrice Granger，" she put in hastily. "My father is the clergyman of Bryngelly. I saw you when you and Lady Honoria Bingham looked into the school yesterday. I teach in the school." She did not tell him， however， that his face had interested her so much that she had asked his name.
Again he started. He had heard of this young lady. Somebody had told him that she was the prettiest girl in Wales， and the cleverest， but that her father was not a gentleman.
"Oh，" he said， taking off his hat in the direction of the canoe.
"Isn't it a little risky， Miss Granger， for you to be canoeing alone in this mist？""Yes，" she answered frankly， "but I am used to it； I go out canoeing in all possible weathers. It is my amusement， and after all the risk does not matter much，" she added， more to herself than to him.
While he was wondering what she meant by that dark saying， she went on quickly：
"Do you know， Mr. Bingham， I think that you are in more danger than Iam. It must be getting near seven o'clock， and the tide is high at a quarter to eight. Unless I am mistaken there is by now nearly half a mile of deep water between you and the shore.""My word！" he said. "I forgot all about the tide. What between the shooting and looking for that curlew， and the mist， it never occurred to me that it was getting late. I suppose I must swim for it， that is all.""No， no，" she answered earnestly， "it is very dangerous swimming here；the place is full of sharp rocks， and there is a tremendous current.""Well， then， what is to be done？ Will your canoe carry two？ If so， perhaps you would kindly put me ashore？""Yes，" she said， "it is a double canoe. But I dare not take you ashore here； there are too many rocks， and it is impossible to see the ripple on them in this mist. We should sink the canoe. No， you must get in and I must paddle you home to Bryngelly， that's all. Now that I know where I am I think that I can find the way.""Really，" he said， "you are very good."
"Not at all，" she answered， "you see I must go myself anyhow， so Ishall be glad of your help. It is nearly five miles by water， you know， and not a pleasant night."There was truth in this. Geoffrey was perfectly prepared to risk a swim to the shore on his own account， but he did not at all like the idea of leaving this young lady to find her own way back to Bryngelly through the mist and gathering darkness， and in that frail canoe. He would not have liked it if she had been a man， for he knew that there was great risk in such a voyage. So after making one more fruitless suggestion that they should try and reach the shore， taking the chance of rocks， sunken or otherwise， and then walk home， to which Beatrice would not consent， he accepted her offer.
"At the least you will allow me to paddle，" he said， as she skilfully brought the canoe right under his rock， which the tide was now high enough to allow her to do.
"If you like，" she answered doubtfully. "My hands are a little sore， and， of course，" with a glance at his broad shoulders， "you are much stronger. But if you are not used to it I dare say that I should get on as well as you.""Nonsense，" he said sharply. "I will not allow you to paddle me for five miles."She yielded without another word， and very gingerly shifted her seat so that her back was towards the bow of the canoe， leaving him to occupy the paddling place opposite to her.
Then he handed her his gun， which， together with the dead birds， she carefully stowed in the bottom of the frail craft. Next， with great caution， he slid down the rock till his feet rested in the canoe.
"Be careful or you will upset us，" she said， leaning forward and stretching out her hand for him to support himself by.
Then it was， as he took it， that he for the first time really saw her face， with the mist drops hanging to the bent eyelashes， and knew how beautiful it was.
